


Thrift Store

by rangerhitomi



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Human Astral, Multi, Shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 20:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3424883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rangerhitomi/pseuds/rangerhitomi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryoga, Yuma, and Astral go to a thrift shop to find Astral some better clothes than baggy hoodies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thrift Store

Shark had never set foot in a thrift store before. He had never had occasion to; his family had always been sufficiently well-off to afford good quality clothing from the department store. Yuma, on the other hand, loved thrift stores and all the bizarre hand-me-downs, old man sweaters, and 80s jumpsuits they offered. So when Astral found himself with a solid, naked body that needed dressing in something other than Yuma’s far-too-big sweatshirts and baggy pants, Shark offered to take him to a department store to pick out a few outfits, while Yuma insisted—firmly—that they go to a thrift store. Yuma won the argument, and a scowling Shark accompanied Yuma and Astral—the latter looking ridiculous in an oversized black hoodie that hung formlessly from his slender shoulders and pants that sagged despite the belt looped around his tiny waist, and made his already pale skin and white-blond hair look even paler—to the thrift store near Yuma’s house.

 

The store was organized by clothing types—shirts, vests, shoes, and pants—and subdivided into men’s and women’s clothes, and even further into colors. As Shark walked by the women’s clothing, he winced at some of the ghastly skirt styles, many of which were outdated by at least twenty years. He would never understand how neon colored leggings and leotards were ever socially acceptable. But perhaps people would say the same about his generation’s clothing in a few decades.

It didn’t stop them from being hideous, though.

Yuma and Astral dropped by the men’s sweatshirts first, where they rifled through several dozen overlarge and repugnant holiday-themed sweaters before pulling a few solid-colored hoodies from the rack to try on later before moving on toward the pants, unfortunately located near the skirt rack.

"Yuma," Astral said as he paused by them. Yuma glanced around and shook his head.

"We’re not buying you a skirt, Astral. Those are for girls."

"I don’t understand why I shouldn’t have one," Astral said stiffly. "As far as I can tell, I have no discernible gender by human standards, and besides, some of the Barians wear them. Perhaps in my own world, it is acceptable to do the same."

Shark snorted. “Oh, well, if  _Misael_  and  _Vector_  think it’s okay to wear them, then you’re right, why not you too? While we’re at it, Durbe didn’t wear any clothes at all, so you should just go naked  _everywhere_.”

Yuma’s mouth tightened at the mention of Vector, but he recovered quickly. “Shark, we’re not letting Astral run around naked.”

"I don’t see why humans find it so shameful to bare what nature has given them," Astral muttered, crossing his arms. "And it’s not like I haven’t be _running around naked_  ever since I came to this world anyway.”

"And we’re not putting you in a skirt either," Yuma added as though he didn’t hear Astral’s remark. "Come on."

Astral glanced at the skirt rack with a pout, but followed Yuma toward the men’s pants.

As Yuma held up different pairs of pants to Astral’s waist, Shark looked at the discount movie rack nearby. Nearly all of them were thirty years old or older workout videos and ancient dueling documentaries, back when it was perfectly acceptable to run a deck full of high-level monsters with no abilities and ritual monsters with pitiful abilities but high summoning requirements. Thank God things had progressed this far. He set one video back with a shake of his head and walked back to his friends, who had presumably finished picking out pants.

"Okay, let’s try these on," Yuma was saying, holding them up.

Astral sighed before undoing the clasp on his belt and fumbling with the button on his pants.

Yuma flushed crimson and flung himself at Astral, hands working frantically to undo Astral’s attempts to unclothe himself in the middle of the aisle. Astral merely looked down at Yuma, who finished doing up Astral’s button.

"You said to try them on," Astral said bluntly. "I do have to take these clothes off before I can try the other clothes on, correct?"

Very few things in life made Shark laugh, but this was one of them. Maybe he should shop with Astral more often.

"Yes, in a  _changing room_!” Yuma hissed, shooting Shark a disapproving frown, which only served to make Shark shake harder with silent laughter. “Not in the middle of the store where there are people around!”

Astral glanced at the rack next to theirs, where an elderly man shuffled through corduroy pants, oblivious to the drama unfolding nearby. “I don’t think that anyone cares—”

Yuma grabbed his hand and pulled him off toward the changing rooms, with Shark following behind, still smiling to himself.

He could hear snippets of the argument Yuma and Astral were having behind the door as Yuma helped Astral try on the clothing, and fervently wished he could hear the entire conversation.

"Are the pockets supposed to go in the front or back?"

"Astral, that’s where your arm goes, not your head."

"This is needlessly uncomfortable."

"You put them on  _after_  you zip them up.”

"No, you zip them up after putting them on."

"But why?"

"Astral, just do it."

"How do human males find these kinds of pants pleasing? I don’t even have male anatomy and I find these far too tight around the inner thigh. Even if they accent the buttocks nicely, I suppose."

"Why does this hoodie smell familiar?"

Maybe thrift stores  _were_  better than Shark had thought.

Finally, Yuma escorted Astral out of the changing room. Astral modeled a pair of tight black pants and a light purple zip-up hoodie, both of which accentuated his figure infinitely better than his old clothes had. With his pale skin and dangling earrings hanging from rather sharply pointed ears, he looked foreign, but he would still attract less attention this way than he would walking around in clothes four times too big for him. Shark had been a school bully once. He knew what types of people got beat up first. Astral was much safer in public now. Not that Shark would let anyone hurt Astral anyway. Or touch him, for that matter.

Astral looked down at his outfit and batted at the cords hanging from the hood. “This shirt thing is very comfortable, but the pants are not.” He tugged at the seat of his pants. “They are causing immense discomfort.”

Yuma rolled his eyes. “Fine, we’ll go one size bigger.” He looked down at Astral’s rear and nodded with discreet approval that Shark couldn’t have missed if he’d tried.

Mostly to pretend he hadn’t seen Yuma admiring Astral’s butt, Shark frowned at the hoodie and brushed his hand against it. Astral’s eyes widened in surprise at this gesture, but Shark didn’t notice. “Hey, this looks like one of my old hoodies.”

Yuma tilted his head in puzzlement for a moment before his eyes widened. He leaned close to Astral’s chest and inhaled deeply. Astral gave Yuma an alarmed side-glance as Yuma looked up, suddenly excited. His eyes sparkled as a bright smile lit up his face.

"Shark, it smells just like you!"

Shark’s expression mirrored Astral’s, and his mouth dropped open slightly in bewilderment. “… _What_.”

Yuma held out Astral’s arm. “Smell it! It’s that smell that you always have on you.”

This was the most disquieting piece of information Yuma had ever provided him. “You know what I  _smell_  like?”

"Well…yeah." Yuma looked a little embarrassed, releasing Astral’s arm and shifting his gaze quickly to the ground. "You have a…a really nice smell. I’ve always noticed that about you."

There was a long, awkward pause before Shark slowly leaned closer to Astral, giving him an apologetic look that Astral acknowledged with a sympathetic grimace. He sniffed hesitantly. Yuma was right. It was an extremely familiar smell.

"Sandalwood."

Yuma looked up. “What?”

Shark clear his throat, turning away as the heat rose in his own face. “It’s sandalwood. Rio burns sandalwood incense all the time.”

It took Yuma a moment to process this. “Wait, is this _your_ hoodie?”

"It  _was_. Rio took a bunch of my old clothes to be donated a couple of weeks ago, and I guess they ended up here.”

Yuma looked amazed for a moment before his face fell. “Oh  _man_!” he whined. “We’re going to have to buy your clothes back?!”

Astral gave Shark a wry smile and shrugged as he followed a still-grumbling Yuma back to the changing room.

Shark smiled. Astral looked better in that hoodie than he ever had, anyway.


End file.
